Lost Opportunities
by IvoryOrchid
Summary: Chapter 4 Gold chain circled around a modest teardrop pendant of various colored gems and designs. They were perfect, he thought. Sanji x Vivi inclinations
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: So for one odd reason or another, I am here again with a story that is Sanji x Vivi inclined. This fanfiction was originally inspired by a lovely SanVivi fanart from the Japanese website called _Ajihira_. The idea has been in my head for a while now, however it refused the thought of letting me live peaceably until I started writing it, and therefore, here it is. Be forewarned, however, that this may be confusing. Proceeding chapters should help clear up the bewilderment. However, your input is very important and I'd greatly like to know if people would read this story if it is indeed continued. Nevertheless, I still hope the readers obtain _some _sort of satisfaction with this story, and with that wish, I will be silent. :P

Disclaimer: _One Piece _is not my property.

_Lost Opportunities_

The alley was deserted. No one was there. No one, but him.

_Pfffff… went the smoke, escaping from his mouth to dance and mingle with the cool afternoon air._

The setting sun had already dipped halfway behind the horizon, causing the sky to explode in bold blends of pink and ochre, violet and blue.

_Beautiful… _breathed the few civilians still strolling up and down the main sidewalk. _Amazing…_ cried the storekeepers as they observed the marvel of nature, lackadaisically preparing to close their shops for the day. He stared upward vacantly, vaguely taking note of some traversing clouds.

_Pfffff…! went the smoke again, louder this time. The tips curled up like soft waves as they stretched to greet the evening sky._

It had been hot, and he had previously taken off his jacket and flung it over his shoulder in an attempt to combat the stifling heat. But now, he was again reminded of the article of clothing since the night air had begun to wrap its frigid fingers around his lean body.

He slipped it on and, after a moment of deliberation, slowly slid a hand into his coat pocket. It was there that his fingers came upon a carefully folded piece of paper.

He grimaced.

He had tried to forget that letter, tried to ignore its strangely dragging weight, but no matter how hard he attempted to push the recollection of it down into the depths of his forgotten memory, it would always find a way to writhe its way up from where it was continually damned and suffocate his surface thinking. He had fought it tirelessly all day, thinking he might find relief, but—he steadily noted as he scanned his surroundings—all he discovered was how utterly futile such a struggle was.

"Shitty luck," he muttered bitterly.

In all honestly, it was not of his own volition that he stumbled across such a particular alley. For if he had known the place had posters of her elegant portrait plastered all over its walls, if the option ever made itself present, he surely would have given up his own soul to avoid the encounter. Life was surely mocking him at that moment, wasn't it? In the past, he would likely have battled both heaven and hell if they made the regretful decision of coming between him and these pictures. But now…

He gently traced his fingers across the edges of the folded paper.

Ten minutes or so had gone by since he had slinked into the alleyway to lose the city officials that had been doggedly chasing his tail. Now, he wondered if it may have been better to have gone with them.

A sudden smirk cracked wryly on his countenance as he played with the proposal of being captured then promptly sent for execution.

He spat a curse and the smile soon shriveled into a cynical scowl: he'd die before giving the bastards the satisfaction to gloat over their prize.

Placing the cigarette which rested lankly between his fore and middle fingers to his lips, he took in a slow, methodical breath before leaning his head back against what was undoubtedly a picture of her face. He wistfully imagined that it was her lips he was closest to and was tempted to turn around and test the veracity of his conjecture, but on recalling the contents of his pocket, he thought better.

But temptation was teasing him—pulling him mischievously by the arm, by his hand, whispering in his ear—to look at what was behind him.

He gritted his teeth as he pushed the thoughts aside. No, it was his mistake. He had no right. He was too late…

"_No, Sanji-san… I knew you that you'd leave one day."_

He winced at the pungency of the memory.

"_But will you…" she paused, gathering the strength to continue, "Will you promise me… you'll come back?"_

Temptation won over his will and he whirled around and stared at the side-view portrait of the young woman. A pretty gold diadem rested regally on her head and a string of tiny gold beads hung modestly from her neck and in her flowing blue hair. But neither the crown nor the fine jewelry that marked her as a princess had struck him as profoundly as it did when he looked upon the poignant expressions of her face. Her lovely dark eyes drooped heavily to the ground, attempting to conceal what he found to be the impressions of pain. And he lightly traced a finger along the outline of her mouth, following the curve of an almost imperceptible frown.

He felt his heart throb and his chest ache.

Struck by self-disgust, he then jammed his hand into his pocket and violently pulled out the note that was the reason for so much of his present anguish. He read it once, twice, three times before flinging it onto the floor and digging it into the dirt ground much like he would with a cigarette.

Then he heard it. Footsteps. Fast, quick, and growing louder with each moment.

"I could have sworn I saw him slither his way in here," came a gruff voice.

Two men in uniform stopped at the mouth of the alley and looked in.

"Well, why the hell didn't you say so ten minutes ago?" was the irritated reply. "If he ever _was _here, he sure isn't now. Let's go."

But the first official wasn't quite convinced. "Do you know how much this guy's _worth_? We almost had him, too… Maybe he's hiding behind that crate," and he went to investigate.

The other official sighed impatiently, convinced they were wasting their time and that the culprit they had been chasing since the morning was probably safely hidden on a ship headed to a different island by now. Mockingly, he called out, "Found anything?"

Surprisingly, the first official hollered an affirmative. Puzzled he asked if had found the outlaw.

"No, but I found a letter."

The second official frowned, "A letter? From who—your mother?"

The first official ignored the trite remark and tersely answered, "It's the pirate's."

"So what is he saying?"

"He doesn't say anything," the first official dropped his gaze from the top to the bottom of the parchment. His eyes widened, and his face became aghast, "It's signed… 'Love, Vivi-chan'…" The official shot a frantic gaze toward his partner, "You don't think it's from the _princess_, do you?"

But the second official just stared at his comrade dully before responding, "Do you know how many goddamn '_Vivi's'_ this guy must know?" He spat, "You defile the princess's good name by even making such a vile suggestion."

The first official, who had been rapidly scanning through the document, suddenly paled and became stone-faced. "That may be so… But tell me, how many 'goddamn "_Vivi's"'_ do _you_ know that are arranged to be married in the Royal Palace of Alubarna at the end of this season…?"

The second official stopped, dumbfounded. He didn't reply, no. For a good, long minute they both just stood there staring at one another in disbelief. Suddenly, the second official turned and began walking away from the dark alley, dabbing his perspiring forehead with a handkerchief.

"Wait!" the first official exclaimed, "What are we going to do with th—"

"_We—_I believe it was _you _who found the blasted thing. And unless _you_ want to add the princess of our country onto the world's most wanted list, I suggest you permanently dispose of that letter and forget this ever happened."

The first official swallowed hard and felt his entire body go limp as he registered what his colleague said was true. "R-right…" He stuttered, and began to follow the other official, who like him, was too thunderstruck to even fathom the thought of how such a relationship could even be possible. But before he left, he threw one last nervous glance around the little street with the posters of their beloved princess pasted all over its walls.

He paused and strained his ear as he listened for any bump, any breath that might make him believe that someone was still there.

But there was no such sound, no such giveaway. The alley was deserted. No one was there. No one, but him.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: What I should have mentioned in the last chapter, just to eliminate any possible confusion, is that this fiction is based on the subbed version of _One Piece_, so if names of places look different, then, yes, that's why :P On a side-note, I did a little revision to the first chapter. All at the end, and very minor—just added some description to alter the pace of the story to a more desirable speed. As for this chapter itself, I'm honestly not quite sure how well it came out, but comments, questions, and constructive criticism are always welcomed, loved, and greatly appreciated.

Reading Notes: In the story, three small dashes indicate a scene break. Long dashes which stretch from one end of the page to the other signal a time change, either from the present to a flashback or from a flashback back to the present.

---

Click. Click. Click. Click.

It was the sound of shoes striding hurriedly across a pale marble floor. The steps were quick, but anxious. Each step was accented with anticipation, each resonated a full tone of marked apprehension. Yet down the corridor these steps bravely marched, never faltering, never hesitating, at least, until they reached the hallway's end.

There they experienced a slight pause. But this moment was brief, the owner of the shoes would decisively vouch, and was pardoned by the vigorous knock he gave to the large mahogany door looming terrifyingly before him.

"Come in" was the muted response from the opposite side of the door. He felt his hand come slowly around the gold colored handle as he simultaneously pushed the door inward. He let a foot slide in—there was no noise as his shoe came in contact with the plush, hand-woven Arabastian rug.

"Yes, Bishop. Is there something you wish to tell me?" The voice was soft, yet commanding, and tinged with fatigue.

Nefertari Vivi looked tiredly up from her writing desk littered with various court letters and town documents and observed the young palace guard standing near the entrance of the room. He was around her age—22—strong, confident, and foolhardy. He always meant well, but quite often he would forget the use of proper restraint. Vivi knew his type all her life. For a time she almost deluded herself into thinking she could live that way also.

The young guard felt his eyes grow wide. It was the first time he was given the chance to relay a message to the Princess, and he nearly choked from flattery by the fact that she actually knew his name. He had only been positioned in the palace for a few months, and this kind of occurrence wasn't common. All the more reason he would look back upon this moment shamefaced at the recollection of his immense stupidity.

He didn't waste a second of time, and burst out emphatically, "Princess, I'm sorry to disturb you from your work—but there's a man waiting outside the palace who simply _refuses_ to leave until he's given permission to see you. We've told him how much work and strain you're under, but he won't listen—he simply says: 'Just let her know that I'm here, she'll let me in.'" The young guard reddened upon these words, and his hands rolled into two tight fists, "Can you believe such, such _audacity_? When we threatened to use non-verbal measures to remove him from the premises, he retorted that he didn't want to see _us_ getting hurt! Princess, I've come here seeking your order. We haven't laid a finger on him—yet—but," and he kneeled to the ground, "please allow us to properly rid this nuisance."

Vivi gazed at the bowing boy with mixed feelings of alarm and amusement. All morning she had been entrenched in work, and when the guard had first knocked at her door, she had been thankful for the enforced recess. It would have been easy to just ask the guard to have the man seek an appointment if he truly wished to see her, but temptation made her curious and it only took a slight pause before the words simply slipped from her tongue, "And who is this man? What is his name?"

Bishop glanced up, making visible his frowning face. It was obvious the guest had not made the fondest impression on the guard, and he made this apparent as he spit out the answer, "He refers to himself as '_Mr. Prince._'" He scoffed, emphasizing the words with deliberate disdain, but Vivi didn't notice—all she heard were those two words and that was enough to send her into a panic. Her heart was rapidly hitting itself against her chest as warm blood rushed to her cheeks.

Immediately her face took on an expression of tiredness doubled as she delved into deep thought. This time it was the guard that didn't notice—

"I mean, did he _really _think me a fool to believe that? I told him I thought we wasn't being truthful and asked if he was really a court jester in disguise—because that would have been more plausible judging from his absurd answers to those ridiculous glasses he was wearing—but he wouldn't give up. He swore he was telling the truth. I—"

"Let him in."

The young guard stopped, completely dumbstruck. Had he heard correctly?

"Your Highness, did you just say to let him _in_…? Is that quite wise? He has the countenance of a sly rogue. This man could be dangerous—"

"No," she spoke firmly, all the while she was struggling to find her breath and remain composed at the same time. It took a few moments before she found that she would be able to speak without betraying her emotions, "You've never met him, but he's actually a close friend of mine—he's visited the palace a number of times in the past. I owe him and his friends my life—treat him with the same respect you would also treat me."

Bishop slowly rose from the place he was sitting, feeling as if he'd just been hit by a severe case of vertigo. He could only stutter stupidly, "P-Princess—forgive me. I'll do as you say at once."

He bowed low and quickly turned on his heel, leaving a trail of 'Clicks' to echo loudly through the corridor.

Vivi heaved a sigh and closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply as she battled to calm the turbulence in her mind and heart.

"So," she mused to herself, "he actually came back." Vivi felt her stomach involuntarily jump and placed the backside of her hand against her cheek. She frowned.

Still hot.

"A toast! To the crew of the 'Going Merry' and their infamous captain—the King of the Pirates!" Vivi stood, beaming, raising her glass.

There was a loud cheer and the dining room of the palace rose and fell with uproarious laughter—"Here, here!"—"Oi! I second!"—"I third!"—and the glasses around the table clinked merrily in convivial agreement.

Vivi retook her seat at the head of the table, elated beyond words. It had been two years since she had last seen the dear group of privateers. They were still the same, she noted warmly, secretly observing them as she sipped from her cup. She watched them bicker over the entrées, reminding them from time to time that there was plenty more in the kitchen, and listened to tall tales concocted by a certain long-nosed crew member. She stifled a giggle as she spotted straight ahead of her the very same King of the Pirates who overcame the life-threatening dangers of the Grand Line shove ten or fifteen dishes of whole meats into his mouth.

She scanned her lively surroundings where she caught Nami's gaze. Vivi sent a smile that read, 'I'm glad that you're all back.' The navigator returned the look with a knowing grin and a wink, 'Glad we're back too.'

And all through the evening, up till the fringes of the night the revels continued. Vivi listened as they enthusiastically shared their stories of adventure, stories of how they narrowly scraped by Death's cold clutches, stories of the many asses that were kicked along the way. She laughed with them and marveled in the outrageous tales, ignoring the nagging and discomforting pang she would receive every now and then in her chest, but now, with everyone knocked out and gone to bed, she finally allowed herself to frown.

She had seen the light in their eyes and if that beloved captain of theirs hadn't have said, "Vivi! If only you were there!"—she may have been fine.

She knew full well that this feeling was only fleeting—that tomorrow would make it but a distant memory. But at the moment, she sat in her room, knees drawn close to her chin, and lolled in the bittersweet aftertaste from that night's gaieties.

Then she heard it.

A faint 'Click. Click. Click' coming from hall.

She was surprised; she thought everyone had fallen asleep. Vivi crept over to the door—shifting her weight carefully so that the floor might not creak beneath her—and pressed her ear against it.

'Who could it be?' she wondered. She strained her hearing for a clue or indication.

But she wasn't left wondering for long, for a moment later the 'Clicks' had stopped and upon her door came a soft rapping.

It was enough to throw Vivi back in alarm, clutching the part of her night dress that was closest to her heart.

"Vivi-chan? Are you awake?" the voice was low and hushed, but immediately recognizable. She waited for the frantic beating of her heart to subside before she reached out her hand and opened the door.

It was dark, but the large pane glass window, naked because its scarlet red curtains had been drawn back, allowed a pale blanket of moonlight to drape over the two figures.

He was still in his evening attire—a blue pinstripe collared shirt and a slim black tie all tucked underneath a classic black suite. In two years he hadn't much changed, Vivi noted. True, his face had become slightly more defined—jaw line, cheek bones becoming accenuated—and she wondered if the cigarettes he constantly smoked were the cause of it. But he was still the charmer he'd always been—she could tell by his smile and the flickering glint and gleam of his eyes. They had always made her feel as if they knew more than they should, and it wasn't any different now.

"I hate to disturb you, Vivi-chan," he began apologetically, "especially if it means compromising any of your beauty sleep… But I had to come and say 'thank you'—on behalf of the crew—for how you handled greeting Robin-chan today." His eyes smiled genially, shining with delight, "It meant a lot to us, and I know it meant a lot to Robin-chan, as well."

Vivi paused, growing more somber as she recalled the event of seeing the raven haired women again, this time as a real ally, "I was glad to do it. Father had told me what she had done with the Poneglyph. Besides," and her face grew more serious as it drifted away from his gaze, "I had forgiven her a long time ago… After all, living with hate isn't really living, is it?"

Sanji's eyes widened as he took in her words and their meaning. He looked away himself with a slight frown, "No, it's not."

They stood there for in the flood of moonlight—both looking off into some distant horizon, both swimming in their own seas of thought.

After some time, she finally spoke up. "Sanji-san… Do you think it would have been selfish of me if I had…" she steered off track with a slight pause, afraid of what she had just spoken, but forced herself to return and finish the sentence, "…if I had decided to come and travel with all of you?"

He shot her an expression of bewilderment, unsure from where the question had originated. It took a few moments until he finally understood what she was referring to and once he did, his look immediately softened.

Once again his gaze gained a distant feel, "I think… it was selfish of _us_ to actually expect you to come." He paused, musing as he collected his thought before continuing, "But there's no use regretting over past decisions…You know, nothing would have made me happier if you had chosen to come with us," and he caught her gaze purposely so that she could feel the veracity of that statement through the candor in his eyes, "But, you had responsibilities that we didn't. We each have our own paths to follow and our own destinies to play out—you and me both, Vivi-chan."

Vivi stared at him with astonished eyes, not knowing how to respond.

She mentally realized what he said was true, although inside her something wasn't satisfied. Something made the air tighten around her with a feeling of suffocating moroseness.

She looked at him to see if he felt it, too, but soon discovered that she was all alone. And so a draft of wind blew between them, making her feel all the more certain that all they would share was that brief moment in time which was now faraway in the past.

'But, I suppose that's just the way it was supposed to be,' she told herself, 'I should just be glad it even happened at all.' And this reasoning satisfied her. She smiled genuinely.

She would be content.

And that's what Vivi had decided on as she bid Sanji good night and they both began to walk in opposite directions; little did Vivi know that Destiny had other plans, and their paths would become entwined together once again.

---

Author's Note: Weeeell, wasn't much, I know, but please be patient :P Thank you for reading, and I hoped you enjoyed.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Hello, everyone! Just to note, this chapter is still in the "past" mode, thus continuing from the time of the end of the last chapter. And as a warning, this particular chapter is really simply helping to set the stage for future ones during the rest of the story. I'm aware that it may be boring, but it's really a necessary step for the progression of the plot. Now with that said and done, I hope you enjoy:)

---

"Do you love her?"

Intrinsically, it was a simple question. Do – You – Love – Her? Four simple monosyllabic words, coupled with a question mark at its end, merely required either a "yes" or "no" to supply a sufficient answer. Yet it was precisely this question he found himself wracking his brain over nearly every day. It wasn't pleasant, with the ability of inciting visibly physical pain at the first signs of its mental recollection. And if he was ever so unlucky as to be visited by the menace—because that's what it was, a terrible, unrelenting menace—at night, just before the sweet embraces of sleep could catch him, he would lay wide awake, tossing and turning the Unanswerable over and over in his mind, trying to see it in a new perspective, a new light.

But he never could. It was, after all, a simple, straightforward question.

"_Do_ you love her?"

It was a question that Kohza loathed to ask.

The air was hot, sticky, and humid—the perfect kind of weather to make enjoying the day impossible. Kohza sat with his clothes clinging uncomfortably onto his body and a ribbon of sweat glistening along his hairline, watching as the small portable fan on his desk desperately tried to create a cool waft but only succeeded in pushing tepid air across the cramped room. Oh, it was detestable weather today in Yuba, but quite frankly, he was used to it. He was used to the detestable—it had clung to his back all his life.

The ex-rebel leader mumbled something of dissatisfactory tone under his breath and began hunting around his unkempt desk for a letter which he had received just two days earlier.

Two years had passed since civil discord had come dangerously close to completely collapsing the stability of a nation, of Arabasta. Two years since life-bringing rain had been returned to renew the hope of the parched and dying country.

It was hard to believe that only two years ago he had reaffirmed his allegiance to the king and made it his ambition to help restore his homeland to its antebellum glory. To resurrect Yuba from beneath the desert sands, and watch the oasis flourish once again.

He lived for that dream.

After some scouring, Kohza finally found the letter that was hidden within the mounds of paper and rubbish. Why he wanted to read something that only brought him displeasure, he didn't know. He was irritated, and most likely wanted something to justify his irritation. It read:

"Dear Sir,

There has been an unfortunate setback. The vessel carrying your shipment of timber was unexpectedly caught in a storm yesterday evening and crashed on the shores of your continent that very night. More than half of the cargo is lost, but the remainder of it will be taken to your city within the next few days. I am forwarding you this letter now to warn you of the undoubted delay so do not be alarmed. We are doing the best we can; your shipment is in the best of hands… etc. etc."

This was not news Kohza liked to receive, but—like the weather—it was the kind of news he was getting quite used to. Delays! Delays! There seemed to be nothing but delays and setbacks for these past few months. If it wasn't the timber, it was the metal. If it wasn't the metal, it was the food supplies. If it wasn't…

Just then, the door swung violently open and a genial, old man strode into the tiny, suffocating room waving a letter in his hand.

"Kohza, you'll be so excited to learn! Look—a letter!" the old man's eyes glimmered with overflowing happiness. He quickly handed the paper to Kohza—who had barely even flinched upon the old man's entry—and waited in anticipation for the boy to complete the reading, but realizing he couldn't wait that long, burst out emphatically once more, "It's from the palace!"

And so it was, Kohza mentally noted—and from the princess, at that (he distinguished this by the letter's very first word, because by now, he could recognize her elegant cursive handwriting anywhere). It appeared that she was inviting him to a gala that would be taking place a few days from now in the palace in honor of the king's "_special guests_."

Would he be able to come?

Kohza's mouth suddenly grew very dry and a choking lump formed in his throat because he couldn't swallow. All the while his mind was swimming.

"So will you be going to see Vivi-chan?" Toto inquired warmly, always fond of witnessing his son's long childhood friendship with the princess in play and alive. As for the man himself, two years had indeed served him well as could be seen by the second chin peeking from under the first and the flab beginning to fill the emptiness that once was his inverted belly.

Kohza looked at the old man sharply, "You've been reading my mail?" Of course he knew very well that Toto read his mail (at least, the ones that had the appearance of looking important).

The old man grew a touch angered, indicated by the slight twitching of his grey whiskers from side to side, "What do you mean? As your father, it's my _right_ to read your mail!"—a slight pause—"So what is it? What's your answer? The deliverer needs a response—"

Kohza leaned slowly back into his chair with his eyes half shut, his entire mien suddenly grew very sullen as he replied, "I can't. There's a shipment of timber arriving here in a couple days. I'll need to be here when it comes."

But of course Toto wouldn't allow it. His whiskers twitched, but this time more good-naturedly, "What a terrible son I have sometimes! What am I, then? A stump? Kohza, you know I'll take care of the shipment, _you _go visit Vivi-chan."

Kohza could have summoned a handful of more acceptable excuses to use, but he already knew it to be futile. He grunted, "All right—I'll go."

Upon hearing these words, the old man's face immediately brightened, like the sun breaking through a fortress of cloud. "Very good! Very good. Let me just tell the messenger—"

And with a merry step, Toto strode out of the room almost as quickly as he came. The door creaked shut behind him and Kohza was once again alone.

He sat there, listening to the dull drone of the useless fan, vaguely wondering how in the world his father could be so lively on a day such as this.

But in the back of his mind, something was tugging at his attention. He knew exactly what it was. By now, he knew it far to well.

"_Do you love her?"_ the thought flashed and Kohza immediately winced.

_He was going to the palace... _

Because

_His eyes became like two orbs, seeing, as if, for the very first time. _

it really was a simple, stupid question.

_Kohza slammed his hands on his desk, shooting a cloud of papers and dust to fly across, all around._

He knew the answer.

He had known it all along.

---

Author's Note: Sigh, sigh, sigh…. And if you are reading this right now, I commend you. And I'm positively sorry for the utter… blah-ness (couldn't find a better word to describe it)… of the plot. Now, I promise, promise, prooomise things will pick up (or so I hope)… Oh well, you will have to be my judge on that :)

But sincerely, thank you for everyone who has reviewed and stayed with this fic this long. (I greatly, greatly appreciate it. Thank you…) As long as I can pique one person's interest and know that they enjoyed my writing/plot, I think that's a good enough reason to continue this story, don't you? (eheh heh, on second thought, don't answer that --;)

Comments, questions, and constructive criticism are always welcome! Thank you, and have a wonderful President's Day (that hopefully earned you a day off :) ) !


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I would like to sincerely and deeply apologize to each and every one of the readers who have been following this little fic of mine for the ridiculously long wait. It's not that I've lost interest (far from it), it's just that I haven't had a sufficient amount of time to write. For this reason, I am very thankful for winter vacations, and therefore will try and utilize this free time as much as possible :P

On an important note, because of various reasons I haven't been able to keep up with the One Piece anime/manga as much as I would like, but I am aware of the potential of new recruits joining the Going Merry. Because I am unfamiliar with these characters, I'll only be acknowledging the Straw Hats present at the end of the Arabasta Arc as the set crew for my story – however, if anything changes, it will be noted.

And, finally, please enjoy!

---

The sun was less fierce today. It had barely overcome the giant desert sand dunes, which undulated like a serpent on its side across the hazy morning horizon, when a tall, cloaked man and a reindeer carrying two pannier baskets emerged soundlessly from behind the shadows of Alubarna's ivory palace walls. The man was wearing orange-tinted glasses, the reindeer, whose nose appeared to be covered with some sort of soot, a red top hat. In the dim, gray light they appraised each other briefly. Yes—sufficient disguises for a simple trip to the bazaar, they decided.

Inching away from the palace, the duo found their way onto a quiet, lonely alley and from there began to weave their way surreptitiously through the city's many dusty side streets. As they moved, the man could not decline a small, clandestine smile from creeping onto his face. The food, the wine, and the revels from the night before were all having a positive effect on him, successfully combating the otherwise gloomy mood which exuded from the early morning atmosphere; not to mention he had also had the delight of waking from an excellent night's sleep (but then again—he reasoned, the secret smile growing wider—who possibly wouldn't after seeing the princess in her night slip?).

But there was another reason, one more applicable to his trade, which helped explain his cheeriness of mood as well as his current destination: the king, in all his generosity, had given him complete and unconditional access to the palace kitchens and supplies for the duration of his stay. And if that information wasn't tantalizing enough, Terracotta was even so gracious as to supply him a list of her own personal recipes to try, if he should be interested.

Oh, and interested he was, he assured her.

There was a recipe which particularly enticed the cook, but the kitchen was curiously without most of its ingredients (an occurrence which he couldn't help but connect to a certain insatiable captain of theirs), and so he had decided to buy the missing supplies the following day. He had awoken especially early this morning so that he might be able to reach the marketplace before all the quality produce were sold and purchased, when he realized that he would probably need help with carrying the items. This realization thus led the cook to the bedside of the soundly sleeping Chopper who—much to the poor boy's chagrin—didn't remain soundly sleeping for long since he was promptly rolled off his bed.

For quite some time, the pair walked through a world of sleepy silence. But as they began nearing the bazaar, the quiet slowly dissipated and a low, humming din took its place. With each passing step, the noise bubbled louder, and it wasn't long before they found themselves amidst an eruption of boisterous shopkeepers and bustling sounds, the smell of sweet, exotic scents overwhelming and intoxicating their senses. It took all of Chopper's will power to keep himself from pinching his nose and uncovering his guise as they walked passed an elaborate perfume stand.

"Sanji—" he wheezed, eyes burning and welling with unhappy tears, "_Hurry._"

"Patience, Chopper." Sanji placidly took a cantaloupe into his hand and gently tapped its center to listen for the hollow sound which would inform that the fruit was ripe. "And out here," his eyes smiled behind the glare of his glasses, "I'm only known as 'Mr. Prince.'"

Wobbling on his four legs, Chopper, feeling his head swell with lightheadedness, screamed in delirium, "I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE, JUST HURRY, DAMN IT!"

A hand quickly appeared and clamped roughly over the reindeer's mouth. "Oi, Chopper. Do you want to cause a disturbance and have us leave? Because, you know, if I don't finish my shopping," Sanji paused, his smile gaining a more sinister edge, "I would have to use the emergency food supply…"

Chopper swallowed slowly, his sense of balance spiraling even more off kilter. "You liar!" he barked back, although this time his voice was more subdued and slightly shaky.

"Oh? Well, let me see." Sanji knocked on Chopper's head twice in mock inspection, "Just as I thought—hollow."

Chopper stared—horrified—at the grinning chef. He had teased him like this for years, and not once did the jest ever fail to terrify. The physician glared at the cook with deep, heartfelt malice. "Sanji… I hate you."

"Mr. Prince," he corrected as they once again began walking from shop to shop in search of the listed ingredients, "I hate you, _Mr. Prince_."

---

Chopper grimly noted that it had taken them approximately three hours to finish their morning grocery shopping. This wasn't such an incredible number when one considered (1), the number of ingredients needed to be bought (2), the difficulty in finding such ingredients in the huge, unfamiliar marketplace and (3), the insane meticulousness of a chef who wouldn't settle until he had found what he thought to be the absolute best quality item in his hand. In all, they had probably circled the circumference of the bazaar a good half-a-dozen times. Chopper really would have killed the chef, that is, if he weren't feeling so terribly ill.

But the moment he saw one of the many exits of the bazaar, Chopper literally jumped from a new-found surge of sheer enthusiastic energy.

"AH! Sanji, look! It's the exit! Let's go out it—let's—"

And it was precisely at that moment—"Sanji?"—which Chopper realized—"Sanji!"—that the cook he had so wanted to kill—"Sanji…?"—was no longer standing next to him.

"…Mr.—?"

---

"—Prince!" the shop girl giggled with the light, airy levity of a bright red balloon. She continued incredulously, "Is that really what you want me to call you?"

"What_ I_ want? No, no, no—a beautiful woman like yourself," beamed the chef, offering a simple, yet courteous bow, "may call me whatever she desires."

The auburn-haired girl, although quite against her will, could not help but blush at the young stranger's sudden and fervent forwardness. Chastising herself briefly, she grappled to gain composure from the event's initial, strange shock and continued, "Well, if that's the case, then I think I should like to call you 'sir,' since you are my customer. So then, sir, what may I be able to help you with today?"

For a moment, the man's face appeared genuinely glum at such a serious and formal answer, but he soon forgot his disappointment since she had reminded him why he was lured to the stand in the first place.

Sanji stared musingly at the lovely, sparkling trinkets arranged neatly on the wooden table. Now, what would his Robin-chan, Vivi-chan, and Nami-san like? His gaze continued to scan the table until it finally became snagged on a string of necklaces. Gold chain circled around a modest tear-drop pendant of various colored gems and designs. They were perfect, he thought—not too extravagant, and yet they possessed a kind of simple and charming elegance that could not be ignored.

"I'll take three of these," he informed the girl, but without bothering to look at her. His stare was still situated admiringly upon the pretty jewelry.

Although, if he hadn't had been so mesmerized, he could have caught the look of distress in the girl's eyes far before he sensed the bewilderment in her voice.

"E-excuse me? I'm sorry, I must have misheard you," the shop girl said with a confused chuckle, "Did you say want to buy _three_ of _these_ necklaces?" And she pointed to the gems to make sure she hadn't misunderstood.

It was now Sanji's turn to appear puzzled. "Yes," he said, at last lifting his bemused face to meet her own. "Is that…a problem?"

The girl merely stared at him quietly, her mouth slightly ajar as if from shock. After a moment or two of heavy silence, she finally answered, half-babbling, "W-well, yes actually—it, it actually is a problem." And then in an instant her disposition entirely changed to one of nerved assurance, "Though you may be wearing Arabasta robes, you're not from around here, are you?"

But she gave him no time to answer and continued in an ardent dialogue, "Because if you were from Arabasta, you would _know_ that you could only give this particular necklace to the girl you truly love!"

Sanji paused, methodically taking out the cigarette resting between his lips, "I see. Only to the girl you truly love?"

The shop girl nodded, obviously relieved he had finally come to an understanding.

"I'll take three then."

Upon hearing the matter-of-factly uttered words, the auburn-haired young woman nearly fell over.

"Sir," she began, feeling a faint flush grow onto her cheeks (only this time the pinkness could be explained by anger rather than giddiness), "this necklace is a sign of engagement here in Arabasta. It would literally be an _insult _if you gave this necklace to more than one woman! Do you understand? It would—"

"So," he started, cutting her cold just when she was beginning to heat up, "who's the lucky man?"

A look of surprise and alarm raced fleetingly across her face, "E-excuse me?"

"You said that the necklace was Arabasta's way of saying you're engaged," and here he pointed with almost a touch of sadness to the clear, crystal tear-drop with gold filaments coming from behind to form a heart floating beneath her neck.

For the second time, the shop girl nearly fell over. Had she been so careless as to forget to tuck the tell-tale item underneath her robe? That's right. She had stopped to admire it right before the man came up to her and—because of his unexpected, whimsical actions—she had completely forgotten to hide it back within her garments. She mustn't be so careless next time. What if it had been her mother who had seen?

She was interrupted from her reverie by the sound of hooves. For a moment, her heart jumped, and then she noticed that standing next to her cloaked customer was a little reindeer, carrying what looked to be about his weight of market items.

"Is he…yours?" she began, unsure whether she should be surprised at the new arrival.

"Who, him?" Sanji smiled, "Oh, he's my pet reindeer. He's usually very obedient, but it seems that he managed to get away from me. But since he's found me again, I think I can forgive him. Isn't that right, b—"

And that's when the shop girl witnessed the obedient, little reindeer kick the man right in the stomach.

Sanji huddled over and glared at Chopper before muttering through gritted teeth, "Bastard."

"Are you all right!?" the girl gasped in alarm.

Sanji shot straight up like a pole and, laughing, answered, "Perfectly all right! That's our way of saying hello!" And, still laughing, the cook proceeded to give the reindeer a swift and hearty "hello" square across his face.

"I'm sorry. You were saying?"

The girl sputtered a confused "What?"

Sanji once again sadly pointed to chain hanging around her neck, "You were about to tell me about the lucky man who has now made it impossible for me to woo you."

"Oh, so I was," she began slowly. But then hastily added, "Not that you really have any right to know—I mean—I _have _only just met you." She paused, attempting to read his countenance which stared at her with a sincere curiosity. "But since it probably doesn't even matter…"

And that's when she began to recount their tale—how they were childhood friends, how that childhood friendship without warning grew into something deeper. How he had secretly proposed to her with that very necklace just before he had left to join the national army and was taken away from her to be stationed in a city some ways away.

"But hopefully," she mused, her voice far-off and lyrical in tenor, "he'll one day be able to join the Royal Palace Guards and be positioned here in Alubarna. Then—then we can finally be married, and possibly have our wedding blessed by the princess!"

He had been listening attentively and without interruption throughout the entirety of the shop girl's story, but at that moment Sanji felt his ears suddenly perk.

"The princess?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. Among many other things, she's made it a custom to be present and provide the feast for all the weddings of the members of the Royal Palace Guard. It's just one way for her to say thank you for their dedication and loyalty throughout the years." The shop girl sighed thoughtfully before continuing with a distant look, "The people of Arabasta are truly fortunate to have such a kind and loving princess."

Sanji watched the girl, feeling the overflow of her admiration. Turning his face away from her for a moment, he replied simply, "Yes—you are."

But the girl's voice was bubbling now, "Since you're not from around here, I'm sure you don't know, but about two years ago the entire country of Arabasta was on the verge of civil war. Our princess went undercover and joined the side of the enemy in order to obtain information that could help save the country. Then, once she learned their secret, she got the aid of a small merchant ship that was able to stow her away and land her safely here in Arabasta. Luckily, in the process she was able to tip off the Marines so with their help, they were able to stop Baroque Works and Crocodile from destroying the nation!"

The girl flashed her eyes to the cloaked man standing in front of her, eager to read the excitement and astonishment that was sure to be etched into his features.

But she was sorely disappointed, for the only expression she saw on his face was that of almost pure apathy.

"So," he answered stolidly, a chain of smoke escaping from his mouth and climbing into the air, "Is that the story they tell you?"

The reindeer at his side began to grow uneasy, stamping his feet as if in disapproval. The woman only stared at him with her head turned to one side, "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," the cook replied quickly. "I don't mean anything." And without further explanation he turned his attention back to the gem and jewels resting upon the table. Noticing this, the shop girl firmly stated that she would under no circumstances sell him more than one engagement necklace. He nodded and then asked what she would recommend for a woman with short, orange-red hair.

In the end, for Robin, he selected a pair of dangling blue, opal earrings; for Nami, he chose a different necklace with five red stones wrought along an antique brass chain; and for Vivi, he had decided upon a simple pearl ring. He was ready to pay the shop girl when he threw one last glance toward the direction of the restricted engagement necklaces. It was then that a necklace with a deep, royal purple tear-drop hanging from its chain caught his eye. Six golden filaments came from behind the gem, curling delicately at the tips. The entire necklace strangely reminded him of a miniature peacock.

After a brief deliberation, he turned to the shop girl smiling and said, "I've changed my mind about the ring."

"I hope for your sake," the girl said as she handed him the purchase items, "that you'll give that necklace to a woman only if you truly mean that you love her. The heart is a very fragile thing."

"My dear lady," the cook began with eyes speaking only the language of romance, "A woman's heart is the last thing I would ever want to hurt."

"The truth, sir," she called as the cloaked man and the reindeer turned around to walk away, "You will better guard her heart if what you say is the truth."

At that proposal, the cooked came to a halt.

"The truth?" he thought to himself before turning around and asking the pretty, auburn-haired shop girl for her name. She answered him with a smile, "It's 'Tybal.'"

"What if I told you," he began with a mysterious light in his eye that could be seen even through the orange-tint of his glasses. "What if I told you, Tybal, that it wasn't a merchant ship which gave refuge to the princess?"

It took a moment for the girl to realize what he was referring to. "What—?"

"What would you say," he continued almost mischievously, "if I told you that she was saved by _pirates_?"

Almost immediately, the girl grew visibly uneasy, her body notably tense. The serious of the matter caused her voice to come out as inflexible as cardboard, "I would say that you were lying."

Sanji then looked at her as a man who had unfortunately just proven his point. "So I was."

For a long time Tybal simply stared in the direction which the two odd characters had departed. It wasn't for several days until she stumbled across a stray 'WANTED' poster and realized who she had actually spoken to that gloomy, sunless day. But for the time she was ignorant, and as she looked up at the dark, pregnant clouds rolling languidly across the sky, she was even able to think herself lucky.

---

Author's Note: Okay, I was debating whether or not to cut the chapter at this point or continue with what would be the next full chapter. As you can see, I have decided to end the chapter here, partly because I wanted to keep the chapters roughly the same length and also partly because I would feel more productive/motivated if I could see that I posted another chapter ; Trust me, I wish I was one of those amazing, prolific writers who could write 8,000+ words for each chapter, really :O However, I would like to assure everyone that I'm working on chapter 5 and it will most definitely _not_ take another few months to be uploaded. Thank you to everyone who has been so patient with me I'm looking forward to writing the next few chapters; hopefully you'll be looking just as forward to reading them :D And as always, comments, questions, and constructive criticism are always welcomed and appreciated.


End file.
